


Here We Go Again

by TheSmidge



Series: Oh Well [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Implied Scott McCall/Allison Argent - Freeform, M/M, Not Beta Read, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmidge/pseuds/TheSmidge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2574893">Different names and different numbers in hotels</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Here We Go Again

**Author's Note:**

> It's not necessary to have read [Different names and different numbers in hotels](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2574893) to understand this, though events from that fic are referenced in this one.

A restlessness falls upon him as heat pricks his skin in anticipation. He can’t believe what he is doing and he knows he should put a stop to it before it begins. But it’s already in motion, stopping now would stop nothing, the damage is already done, it has been for a while. 

He loosens his tie then re-ties it, fidgeting nonsensically. A glance to the digital clock on the side informs him that Jackson is late. Not by much but it’s enough for Scott to believe he’s been stood up. As he goes to turn away his eyes land on the folded money, slid under the clock. An embarrassing reminder of what this is. The first time had been little more than happenstance, a chance encounter. This time he’s planned it, found Jackson’s number, arranged the whole thing. It should make a difference though he is sure Alison would not care for the distinction, both instances amount to the same thing in the end, adultery.

He falls back against the sheets hands racing through his hair gripping and pulling at it. Pain shoots through him as he tugs too hard. How other people do this he can’t comprehend. It’s even less clear how he is. 

A knock on has him sat bolt upright. He hesitates before a second more demanding knock follows it. Shaking himself he walks to the door, bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. The door creaks as he pulls it open to reveal Jackson leaning against the doorjamb. It’s hard not to notice how good he looks but Scott tries anyway, refusing to say anything as he moves to let Jackson in.

“You want a drink?” He asks awkwardly as he shuts the door. 

“And here I thought I was here for something else.” Jackson whispers into his ear having silently approached him while his back was turned, the words ghosting over the shell of Scott's ear. “But by all means you drink.” Jackson adds pushing away from Scott to fall against the silken sheets of the bed.

Scott takes a drink to calm himself before turning around. Blue eyes stare up at him under long lashes. A challenge in them, a test. It’s one Scott is sure he loses as he watches Jackson stretch, splaying his hands above his head. Scott’s eye travel down to the sliver of skin, the jut of a hip, that’s revealed with the motion as Jackson’s thin shirt rises. The sprinkling of hair that dips beneath the dark denim of Jackson’s jeans enticing him, and suddenly he can’t speak, his mouth dry at the sight.

“Come on McCall.” Jackson goads, lifting his hips slightly. Yet Scott can’t move, his mind blank as the sight, at the knowledge of what he is doing catching up with him. Caught out of his reverie by Jackson’s sighing as he shifts to the edge of the bed.

“Look, McCall if thi-” Jackson begins to say but Scott cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Well then.” Jackson rises up slowly, his hands traveling across Scott’s chest until his fingers brush his tie. 

Scott swallows as their eyes meet, he shouldn’t want this. The thought doesn’t stop him though, and he leans down to brush his lips against Jackson’s. It’s barely a kiss but it’s enough to break him out of his stupor. 

Slowly Jackson undoes his tie, never once breaking eye contact with him. It slips around his neck dropping to the floor without a sound. One by one practiced finger release his shirt buttons, sending shivers down his spine. Hands slide over his shoulder blades, stripping off the loose fabric. His breath hitching as Jackson presses an opened mouthed kiss to his now bare shoulder. Deft fingers work his belt loose, the worn leather sliding free with ease. Jackson turns them round with feather light touches against bare skin, sliding down Scott’s trousers and boxers until they pool at their feet. 

Scott stands there as Jackson appraises him. A flush colouring his skin. A gentle push has him on his back against the hotel sheets. The bed dipping under Jackson's weight as he crawls up so he’s covering him. 

“Tell me what you want.” Jackson says as his own hands toy with the hem of his top. 

Instead of answering Scott lays his hands against Jackson’s, guiding the top off. He slides his palms down the taut muscles of Jackson’s abdomen, lets his thumbs dig into the dips of Jackson’s hips. This is easier, he can do this, it’s everything before, the build up that gives him too long to think, he can’t.

Thier lips meet once more as Scott deals with Jackson’s jeans’ fastening. He pops the buttons and then let's Jackson shook himself out of them and his socks. 

Jackson kneels back over Scott’s thighs, lube and condoms in hand. Scott reaches for them but Jackson just laughs pushing Scott back against the mattress with his free hand. He slicks his fingers slowly, his eyes watching Scott’s face. The tube bounces slightly as he drops it to the sheets. 

Jackson slides his hand between them, leaving a stripe of lube against flushed skin. The tips of his fingers brush against Scott’s cock but he continues trailing them down until he can slide two fingers inside himself. It’s more a pretense then a necessity to stretch himself open, but Scott’s jaw goes slack, clearly taking pleasure in it and isn’t that the point of this. A groan escapes his lips as he brushes against his prostate. Leaning forward he urges Scott to slide the condom on.

It’s awkward but Scott manages to rip open the package and slide the condom on his hard cock. His hand curls roughly around the nape of Jackson’s neck, tugging it down until their foreheads meet. A shuddering breath escaping at the first touch of Jackson's hands slicking his cock up. It’s almost enough to come from that alone, and sensing that Jackson leans back to urge Scott to slide his cock inside. It’s tight and too warm as Jackson slides down agonisingly slowly, setting the pace. 

Jackson moves slowly above him a wicked look in his eyes as he stares down at Scott. It’s not quite enough, Scott wants more, needs more. The words don’t come however. Either way Jackson teasingly seems to slow his movements more as though he knows.

Stubbornly Scott refuses to give in and digs his fingers into Jackson’s hips instead, tries to take control, to set the pace. Thrusting up with an unsteady snap of his own hips. 

Jackson laughs breathlessly matching Scott's speed, retaking control with a roll of his hips. 

Scott’s eyes dilate, blown wide with desire. Relinquishing control once more to Jackson too far gone to think. 

Jackson rides him fast and hard. Dropping forward onto his elbows, bracketing Scott in. Just the tip of Scott’s cock sliding in and out, a shallow penetration that sends Scott into overdrive.

Shakingly Scott pushes Jackson back, angeling them once more so he can thrust in deeper. Sitting up now he rocks up to meet Jackson’s movements. His hand holding Jackson’s neck in a vice like grip, keeping their eyes locked as he feels himself get close to the edge. With a loud shout he comes. Jackson following close behind him, his muscles twitching and tightening around his softening cock. 

They fall back against the sheets. Scott sliding out only when Jackson huffs. His breath is short as he sakes through the afterglow, too full of bliss to notice as Jackson cleans them up and disposes of the condom. 

Jackson goes to get dressed but Scott pulls him back to the bed, wraps his arms around his waist. He presses kisses against salty skin, pleading him to stay as he drifts off.


End file.
